


many times before

by KelseyO



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, Gen, Withdrawal, ezra being a creepy douchebag, mentions of drug use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 20:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1239397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KelseyO/pseuds/KelseyO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her cell phone rings and she jumps so violently that the pills fall to her comforter. She clenches her jaw hard and glances at the caller ID, and she only picks up because Aria’s name is on the screen. (Re-write of the 4x21 scene where Spencer takes the pills.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	many times before

**Author's Note:**

> I spent the entire episode waiting for Sparia (again), but the writers refused to give me Sparia (again), so I made my own Sparia (again). Not beta'd. Title from "Breathe Me" by Sia.

Her body is screaming at her to swallow them, swallow them, swallow them, and her hand is literally trembling with the effort to not let the pills get any closer to her mouth.  She can feel her throat constrict in anticipation of the pills hitting her tongue, even though she wants so badly to be that person who can kick an addiction on their own, who can bury A’s stupid bottle under the front porch, who would’ve given it to Emily instead of being a complete idiot and keeping the temptation within arm’s reach.

She wets her lips; her elbow tenses.

But then her cell phone rings and she jumps so violently that the pills fall to her comforter. She clenches her jaw hard and glances at the caller ID, and she only picks up because Aria’s name is on the screen.

“Hey,” she says, and her voice cracks something awful.

There’s a heavy beat of hesitation. “Look,” Aria replies, so quietly Spencer can barely hear her, “I know you’re going through a lot right now—”

“No,” Spencer interrupts, shaking her head even though Aria can’t see, “What is it?”

She hears an audible, shaky sigh. “You’re the only one who knows what it’s like.” Aria sniffs. “Just, what happened with Toby, and everything.”

Spencer feels like she’s on fire, and she’s not sure if it’s because of the withdrawal or because of how broken Aria sounds on the other line. The pills are staring up at her from the bedspread; she clenches the knuckles of her free hand to keep it from moving toward them.

“Can I come over?” Aria asks finally, her voice wobbling with the effort of getting each word out.

Spencer’s eyes are locked onto the Adderall, and she swallows a sob. “Yeah,” she manages as a tear rolls down her cheek. “Of course.”

Aria lets out another heavy sigh, but this time it might be one of relief. “I’ll be there in two minutes.”

The line goes dead, and Spencer looks at the clock on her nightstand just as it changes from 8:52 to 8:53.

She pulls her knees into her chest and wraps her arms tightly around her legs, her gaze never leaving the clock.

“One,” she murmurs under her breath. “Two… three… four…”

.

She’s at twenty-six seconds past 8:58 when there’s a knock on her doorframe, and only because she’d been so wrapped up in her counting that she didn’t see Aria hovering outside the threshold.

“Spencer? What are you doing?”

She blinks and more tears fall. “The clock doesn’t have seconds on it,” she mutters, raking her fingers through her hair but not letting herself unfold, because the pills are still _right there_ and she doesn’t trust her hands to leave them that way.

Aria closes the door behind her and takes a few steps closer to the bed. “Where did you get those?” she asks quietly.

“Can you put them back in the bottle?” The words barely make it out of her throat. “Please?”

Aria sets her bag down, walks to the other side of the mattress, and puts the pills back one by one—a little too slowly for Spencer’s liking, but it gets just a little easier to breathe with each tiny _clink_ of pill-against-bottle. Aria twists the cap on, and the air leaves Spencer’s lungs all at once.

“Can you,” she begins, then swallows hard. “Can you put it in your bag?”

Aria obeys, and the second the bottle is out of sight, Spencer’s eyes slip closed; but when she feels the mattress dip beside her, she remembers why Aria is here in the first place and clears her throat. “Um. How are you doing?” she asks, trying to get her tone to sound at least a little bit normal, maybe even comforting, rather than exhausted and on the edge of sanity.

“Spence, are you sure you’re up for talking right now?”

“If you hadn’t called, I would’ve taken those pills.” The words sound jagged in the open air. “I’m honestly all for having a nice, long conversation.”

Aria nods and lies back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling; Spencer follows after a moment, grimacing at the aches all over her body and taking a deep breath in and out when she finally settles against the mattress.

“I can’t believe I trashed his apartment,” Aria murmurs.

“That’s probably healthier than wandering through the woods until the police pick you up.” She hears a small laugh beside her and the corner of her mouth twitches.

Now there’s another sniff. “I didn’t see it coming,” Aria croaks, “I was completely… _blindsighted_. How did I not—?” Her throat thickens and the sentence stops, and she reaches up to wipe a tear away.

“Because it’s not in anyone’s nature to assume their boyfriend is using them for book research.”

Aria’s shaking her head. “But there were signs. There were _so many signs_ , so many things that didn’t make sense. And I just—”

“Pretended not to see any of them, because the love of your life being part of the A-Team would just be too absurd.” Spencer toys with her necklace and thinks about Scrabble boards and motorcycle helmets and ID badges; then she moves her hand away and plays with a loose thread in her quilt instead.

“We don’t know that he’s A,” Aria replies immediately, her voice hard but tired. “He just has boxes full of information about us in his apartment, and more surveillance equipment than the NSA, and…” She lets out a small sob. “And what the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

Spencer finds Aria’s hand and takes it in her own, lacing their fingers and squeezing, because she doesn’t know what else to do.

Aria glances at her through glassy red eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Why are you asking me that? You’re in the middle of—”

“Because your hand is shaking,” Aria says quietly, sliding her thumb against Spencer’s.

Okay, so maybe there’s more than one reason why she’s holding on to Aria. “A part of me really wants to get the pills out of your bag,” she whispers, hating each and every word as it comes out of her mouth, and her eyes are brimming with tears again. “And I’m really afraid I might actually do it.”

Her thumb is still moving back and forth. “Do you want me to flush them?”

Spencer tries to stop her face from crumpling, because every cell in her body is begging her to say no, but she nods as another drop of moisture rolls down her temple.

“Give me sixty seconds,” Aria says, pulling her hand free and getting off the bed.

Spencer’s heart nearly seizes when she hears the pills rattling around in the bottle; she squeezes her eyes closed and begins to count under her breath. “One… two… three… four…”

She’s only at forty-one when Aria’s fingers slip between hers again.


End file.
